Bad Boys, Bad Boys

Do you ever watch "Cops?" I must admit that this particular show has never made it to my must-see TV schedule. But last night my oldies were preparing to eat a little ice cream (I'm in!) and watch a little TV. I stretched out across the end of their bed hoarding my ice cream from the little dogs. "Cops" is apparently a Saturday night ritual. I pretended to work on the crossword puzzle but I got sucked in too.

Then I got the giggles. The alleged criminals are so stupid! Between my laughter and my mother's running commentary, my father started saying, "Shut up, please!" Of course, this only made me laugh harder. At one point he said, "Third warning! Shut up, please!" (He says this with a great deal of charm but the annoyance on his face is apparent.)

My father is my hero and he tolerates oh so much from me. He would never admit it but I think he's a little freaked out for reasons that are obvious to me. It's not my presence and it's not my dog. It's not the emotional cesspool I am swimming in.

It's very simple: My mother and I never shut up. And when the laughter starts to roll, any attempt to contain it makes it worse. We just screech louder.

It feels good to laugh loud and often. The bad boy of this house is going to have to get over it.

A Deer in the Headlights

This phrase is a pretty accurate description of many people in a panic situation, myself included. Others, like the husband, go into action mode.

After I left my job in the jewelry stand, I moved on to a great job in a drugstore. Sometimes I worked as a cashier but my favorite part was working in the pharmacy. They sent me to classes to become a Pharmacy Tech. (I've never really understood what that means.) We had a very cranky pharmacist but for whatever reason, he liked working with me. I just liked wearing the white coat.

Our drugstore was connected to a grocery store which is not uncommon. The pharmacist discovered that someone was stealing narcotics. I would suspect the oldies but they didn't know me at the time. (I'm kidding!) So, an undercover cop appeared on the scene. As a trained professional, he figured out what was happening -- someone was crawling through the ducts between the grocery store and the drugstore, dropping down and stealing drugs. They (cops) set up a sting operation. I had no clue.

One day I was running to the front of the store to get cash and the criminal was meandering through the store. Undercover cop spotted him and began chasing him through the aisles.

Here's what I remember: Gun drawn by policeman. Yelling to "Get down!" Something registered in my brain that I was between the two of them and one of them was waving a gun. I froze.

After the criminal was apprehended, the undercover cop came up to me and said, "Sheri, I was trying to tell you to get out of the way."

I have tremendous admiration for people who can react appropriately in a scary situation. I am not one of them but someday I plan to join the club.

Good Cop/Bad Cop

If I push it, I can keep a secret from my parents for about 24 hours. When anything is bothering me, I am itching to call them. Yet, I know what's in store. Bad Cop will let me cry and complain. (There might be an "I told you so" lecture.) Advice will be plentiful and helpful.

Good Cop will understand that Bad Cop has already taken care of the necessary details. Good Cop gets to hear the daughter and lend an ear. No judgment needed; the cops will discuss it later.

My parents are not angels but they are an amazing unit. I could marry as often as Elizabeth Taylor and never find a union as fitting as theirs.

I called today with a problem. Bad Cop said, "Face it and figure it out." Good Cop said, "Kick 'em." Good advice from both sides.

Bad Boys

My parents love the show, "Cops." Everyone, sing along -- "Bad Boys, Bad Boys, what'cha goin' to do when they come for you?"

Let me explain my definition of a bad boy. This is a boy/man who is ok with taking a risk. This is a boy/man who looks life in the eye and says, "Bring it on."

I've been on both sides of this track. I have been in relationships with incredibly nice men who let me run all over them. Those relationships didn't work.

Don't get me wrong -- I'm not promoting abusers, serial adulterers or compulsive people. I just get a little jolt from a boy/man with an edge. I like someone who pushes me and lets me push back. I like the fact that my husband is over 50 and still plays in a rock & roll band. I like it that we try to push each other around and usually have to call it a draw.

I can name every boy that I had a crush on, kissed, dated and married. They have grown up and moved on. Most of them had an edgy side.

My father is now a gentle soul. However, when my mother met him, he was a bad boy.

I love meeting Big Daddy out for dinner or another occasion. I can scan the room and think to myself, "There's my bad boy."